


The Point of No Return

by SayuriMay200



Series: Esperanza [2]
Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M, Imector, coco - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22495957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayuriMay200/pseuds/SayuriMay200
Summary: *This continues where my first story, "Esperanza", left off. Please read that one first if you haven't already!*After Héctor is badly injured in a fight defending her, Imelda volunteers to take care of him. But being alone in such an intimate situation may prove to be a greater temptation than either of them can resist, especially now that they know that their feelings are mutual...*Warning: graphic content!*
Relationships: Héctor Rivera & Imelda Rivera, Héctor Rivera/Imelda Rivera
Series: Esperanza [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618438
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	The Point of No Return

Cleaning up Héctor’s back was a far more difficult task than Imelda had expected. He couldn’t roll over onto his side or his front as it was too painful on his ribs, so Imelda had to help him to sit up so that she could climb up behind him and do it that way. Even then, he was finding it uncomfortable. Unless he’d tried to move too much or started coughing, he hadn’t felt too bad when he was lying down. With Imelda stroking him and kissing him, he had felt positively wonderful. The moment he was sitting upright, though, his head was spinning unpleasantly, his whole body ached and he barely had the strength to hold himself up.

“Please ‘Melda, this is not necessary. My back is absolutely fine, there’s nothing to clean up. Let me lie down.”

“Héctor, have you forgotten I was there when you were attacked? I saw what those two _cabrons_ did to you. I’m looking right now at all the cuts and bruises all over your back, don’t tell me you’re fine. I need to make sure that none of these cuts get infected.”

Héctor hissed with pain as Imelda gently ran her alcohol-soaked cloth over his back, cleaning where the skin was broken. The cuts were only small, so it was nowhere near as painful as the graze on his chest had been, but it still stung.

“Ok, so when I said that a moment ago? That was a lie, and I apologise for that. But please, Imelda, my back doesn’t need any attention. It won’t get infected. I just need you to kiss it better.”

“Well I don’t think the doctor would agree if I told him that. He’s coming tomorrow, and I promise you’ll enjoy it even less if he has to do it.”

“Ay, no thank-you.” Héctor grimaced. “I don’t want him kissing me better. His breath smells like anchovies and bad decisions.”

Imelda laughed, putting her arms around him from behind and letting him relax back against her chest with a sigh. She kissed his shoulder, her lips travelling all the way up his neck to his earlobe, which she sucked gently. He melted, just as she knew he would, closing his eyes and tipping his head back onto her shoulder.

“I know it hurts, _mi amor_. I’m sorry. But I nearly lost you today, I refuse to lose you to some stupid infection that I could’ve prevented. You mean the world to me.” She kissed his neck again and reached around to put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat racing fast beneath. He placed his hand on top of hers.

“I will do anything you say, _mi amor_.” He twisted around to kiss her, immediately regretting his decision when his ribs protested painfully. He groaned with misery and frustration, clutching his sore chest.

Imelda helped him to lie back down on his bed of hay bales, sliding a thick blanket underneath him so that the hay didn’t irritate the his bare back. The evening was closing in, and the barn was beginning to get dark. She lit the oil lamps that her mama had left out for them, bathing their corner of the barn in a warm yellow glow, and quickly tidied up the dirty cloths that she had been using to clean up Héctor’s injuries. His shirt was too filthy and torn to even consider putting back on him. Her mama had provided a clean shirt in the pile of her papa’s old clothes, which she had left in the barn with all of the other things Héctor might need, but Imelda chose not to help him into it just yet. She was secretly enjoying seeing him so exposed and being able to stroke his bare skin, and she suspected that he was enjoying it too in spite of the less-than-ideal circumstances. And, she reminded herself firmly, she could keep check on his injuries more easily this way. That had to be her priority. _Focus, Imelda._

She looked down at Héctor, who was far more relaxed now that he was lying on his back again. He was staring back at her with big, sorrowful eyes, and she knew how difficult he was finding this situation. He usually enjoyed taking care of her- carrying her basket for her in the market, helping her with her chores, eagerly doing any job she asked of him. While he had loved having her fussing over him, especially with all of the intimate physical contact that had been involved, he was finding it hard being so helpless.

“Is that better?” she asked him gently, stroking his hair.

“ _Si_ ,” he replied sadly. “I feel fine when I’m lying like this. It’s just when I try to sit up or turn over, everything hurts. I’m sorry you have to do all this for me, Imelda. I feel so… pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic. You’re my hero.” She kissed his forehead and he blushed. “I’m very happy to be with you and helping you now. I wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to do this for you.” She smiled at him playfully. “Unless of course you’d prefer the doctor?”

“No, no! Doctor anchovy-breath can stay away, you’re doing a much better job.”

“I’m glad you approve. Now, time to clean up your legs.” _Let’s see if you’re still sorry to have me doing this once I’m finished with you,_ she thought mischievously.

Imelda decided to start with his feet and work her way up. She took her bowl of water and a cloth and knelt beside his hay bed. As she swept the damp cloth over the sole of his right foot, he squealed and drew his knees up away from her.

“Are we a bit ticklish, _mi amor_?” she asked him, amused. “Am I going to have to sit on you to keep you still?”

“No, no, no…” he laughed, as she swung her leg over his knees and straddled his thighs, facing away from him, pinning his legs to the hay. “Imelda, this isn’t fair! I can’t reach you!”

“Who said that ‘fair’ had anything to do with it?” she laughed back, teasingly dragging her cloth between his toes and causing him to squeal again. “ _Dios_ , it is fun watching you squirm.”

“Oh Imelda, you are a cruel woman,” he panted. She continued to torture him, insisting on cleaning each of his long toes in turn, with him writhing and squealing beneath her. When she had finished with his feet she moved on to his ankles and his calves, rolling up his trouser legs as she went. He had some small cuts and bruises and a couple of small grazes, but nothing serious so far.

Once the ticklish ordeal of having his feet cleaned had finished, Héctor had tried to relax again and allow Imelda to clean the injuries on his legs. It was difficult. Whether she was doing it consciously or not Héctor couldn’t be sure, but he was very aware of the way that Imelda was straddling his thighs to keep him still. As she worked her cloth up his calves towards his knees, she was shuffling her whole body backwards towards his hips. Every time she touched him, every move she made was having an effect on his body, and he didn’t just mean his legs. He barely noticed the sting of the cleansing alcohol as he tried hard to distract himself with calming thoughts. He tried counting, he tried naming all of the different types of tree he could think of, he tried going through song lyrics… anything mundane that might distract his mind and allow his body to calm down. But the feeling of her hands stroking his skin and the warmth of her thighs straddling his body were too powerful to ignore.

He started to panic as he realised that she would soon be positioned over his pelvis. He had no way of hiding how his body was responding to her, and no idea how to make it stop. He didn’t even know how much she knew about the male anatomy and how it worked- this would be a fairly shocking way for her to find out. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her and ruin everything.

Before he had time to think of what to do, however, Imelda suddenly rolled off him and stood up, moving her bowl of water and her cloth to one side. He breathed a sigh of relief, quickly trying to reposition his legs to hide his embarrassment.

“Right,” said Imelda matter-of-factly. “I can’t roll your trouser legs up any higher, so I’m afraid those trousers are going to have to come off.”

Héctor’s mouth fell open. He felt his cheeks turning pink.

“Imelda… I… I can’t…”

“You can’t take them off yourself? Don’t worry, I can help you.”

That wasn’t what he had meant at all. Before he could think of anything to say, her long fingers were brushing down his chest, over his stomach and untying the knot in the rope belt around his hips. She got it loose and threw it to one side, then hooked her thumbs in the waistband of his trousers on each hip and gently pulled them downwards over his pelvis.

Héctor panicked. He grabbed one of the blankets that was lying next to him on the hay and threw it across his lap, his face bright red with embarrassment. Imelda burst out laughing.

“Are you shy, _mi amor_?” She pulled his trousers off completely from underneath the blanket and put them to one side, then knelt beside him, stroking his cheek.

“No,” he lied self-consciously. “It’s just that… well, if you take all of my clothes off, then…”

“Then?”

“Then… I won’t have any clothes on.” he finished pathetically.

Imelda burst out laughing again, then winked at him. “That’s not a problem for me if it’s not a problem for you.”

Héctor began to laugh too. She was definitely aware of what she was doing this time, and she was enjoying every minute of it.

“It’s not my fault if I’m a little self-conscious. I’m lying here wearing nothing but a blanket, and I can’t even move to protect my dignity. You, you’re sitting there fully dressed, and now you’re stealing my clothes too. It’s just greedy.”

“Ahh, that’s the problem, is it? I have too many clothes? Would you feel better if I evened things out a little?” She stood up and pulled the ribbon from her hair, letting it fall in loose curls around her shoulders. She undid the sash of her dress at the back with a sharp tug, then slowly unfastened the buttons over her chest. The dress fell in a pool at her feet, and she stepped out of it and put it to one side. Now she was just standing before him in a thin slip, and he could clearly see that she was not wearing anything underneath it. Her expression was of calm amusement, but her eyes were full of fire. Héctor suddenly forgot how to breathe.

“Is that better, _mi amor_?” her voice was huskier than usual.

“ _Si_ ,” he croaked.

Smiling, she knelt on the bale of hay next to him and stroked his knee. Then she took her cloth and began to gently stroke upwards from his knee to his hip, taking particular care over a large bruise on his upper thigh. Héctor watched her breathlessly, his head propped up with blankets, a starstruck expression on his face. She stroked back down his leg towards his knee, and then back up the front of his thigh. Back down, back up, slowly and deliberately, teasing him with her cloth and her fingers.

He groaned, his eyes closing, trying to force himself to think of names of trees again, but it was no use. His excitement was growing to the point of almost being painful now. He dug his fingers into the hay beneath him, trying to control himself. All he could think about was how much he wanted to grab her, flip her onto her back on the hay and tear that slip from her body. Héctor had never yet experienced for himself what it was like to be with a woman in that way. He knew enough about it, though. Living in the slums of Santa Cecelia, he had often wandered across couples enjoying each other’s company late at night, or heard the sounds of their pleasure through the thin walls of his room while he was trying to sleep. He once had a roommate who was a talented artist- people would pay him to sketch their portraits in the plaza during the day, but he made far more money selling his more lewd artwork at night in the backstreets, usually to wealthy gentlemen who wanted to look at something a little more… _interesting_ than normal portraits. Héctor had been shocked the first time his friend had shown him some of these explicit sketches. Naked men and women, their bodies intertwined in a variety of positions, enjoying each other’s bodies with expressions of fascinated awe. One image in particular stuck in Héctor’s mind- it was a woman lying naked on a bed, her breasts bare and her legs spread apart, with a man lying between them. His hands were on her hips, his mouth busy kissing the forbidden area between her legs, her hands tangled in his hair and a contorted expression of pure ecstasy on her face. Héctor couldn’t help but imagine how Imelda might look if he were to do that to her. The thought sent a shiver through him.

“ _Dios mio_ , Imelda.” He groaned, fighting the urge to grab her. “I can’t wait until you’re my wife.”

Imelda looked straight into his eyes. “Who says you have to?”

He hadn’t been expecting that response. _Does she mean she wants to…?_ She put the cloth down and slid her hand around to the inside of his knee, and slowly, teasingly, up his inner thigh. Closer… closer…

Héctor couldn’t take it any more. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, he grabbed Imelda’s wrist and pulled her up against his chest. Her breathing was as ragged as his, her eyes full of desire. He could feel her heartbeat through her slip, pounding against his bare chest.

“Imelda…” his voice was barely a whisper. He placed his forehead against hers, their lips almost touching. “We need to stop this. You know we need to stop this.”

“Why? Is it hurting you?” she breathed back, her fingers stroking his neck. She pressed her body against his, feeling his warmth through the thin fabric of her slip.

“You know why.” He swallowed hard. “We’re getting dangerously close to crossing a boundary we can’t come back from, Imelda.”

“I don’t want to come back from it.” She propped herself up on her elbow, leaning over him until her body was almost on top of his, careful not to put any weight onto his damaged ribs. “Héctor, we’ve both confessed our love for each other. I know you want to marry me, you know I will say yes when you ask. I nearly lost you today. Life is short and unpredictable. Here we are, alone, two people in love, in a safe and private place where nobody can see us or stop us. I don’t want to let this chance get away. Do you?”

“Do I?” Héctor laughed. “ _Mi amor_ , I’m shocked that I’ve managed to control myself this long already.”

“Then what’s stopping you? Is it the pain?”

“No, it’s not that as such. I feel fine when I’m lying down like this, and it’s only really my chest that hurts, not my… erm… lower areas.” Héctor flushed with embarrassment again. By some miracle, _that_ was the only part of him that had been unharmed in the attack. He sighed frustratedly. “Imelda, I’ve loved you for a long time. I’ve always imagined what I would like to… to do to you… if I was ever lucky enough to be your husband.” The drawing sprung to his mind again, and he tried to ignore it. “But I can’t do those things to you properly while I’m stuck on my back and I can’t sit up, or turn over, or… any of the other things I need to do to please you. You know what I mean.” He broke her gaze, embarrassed. “I’m worried I’ll disappoint you.”

“There are other ways for us to enjoy each other, _mi amor_.” Imelda gave him a sultry smile. She ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed her lips against his, kissing him deeply and feeling him pull her closer in response. She might not have done this before, but she had several friends who were married. Especially after a few rounds of Tequila, she had often heard them brag about their adventures with their husbands, sharing tips about things they had done to spice up their marriage beds. Imelda had always refused to engage with these conversations, taking an air of prudish disgust. It didn’t mean she hadn’t listened, later lying in bed imagining what it might be like if she were to try out some of their tricks on Héctor one day. Now she had a chance to do it, and she was going to make the most of it.

She pulled away from the kiss, leaving Héctor panting for more. She lowered her head and kissed his chin instead, her mouth drifting lower until she found the sensitive skin of his throat. She gently dragged her teeth over it, making him let out a surprised moan. He grabbed her shoulders and tried to pull her back up to kiss his lips again, but she resisted, wriggling down his body to kiss his collarbone, his breastbone, his navel. She slipped her leg between his knees, pulling herself up so that she could kneel between his legs, but when he sensed her moving away from him he grabbed her again, pulling her body against his and kissing her fervently. One of his hands slipped onto her breast, squeezing it gently, his callused thumb grazing over her nipple. She shuddered with excitement, briefly forgetting what she was trying to do.

“Héctor, you’re distracting me. If your hands can’t behave themselves, I will have to do something about them.”

“They can’t resist you, _mi amor_. And neither can I.” He kissed her neck, still massaging her breast with one hand, and his other hand slipped down to her waist, gently pulling her slip up over her knees. She was suddenly very aware of her nakedness underneath.

“Right, I warned you!” Imelda pulled herself together and grabbed his wrists, pinning them up above his head. She had plans for Héctor, and she was not going to let him distract her from them. She spotted his rope belt lying on the floor where she had dropped it. She looped it around his wrists, threading it through the rope holding together the hay bale just above his head and tying it securely. Now he was stuck, his hands tied above his head, Imelda hovering over him triumphantly.

“Imelda, this isn’t fair!” Héctor protested breathlessly. “You mean that you can touch me, but I’m not allowed to touch you?”

“Correct.” Imelda ran her fingers down his cheek, his neck, his chest. “I am in control now. You’re not allowed to move, you’re not allowed to touch.” She was getting a real thrill from this, watching him squirm breathlessly beneath her.

“As you command, _mi amor_.” His eyes were sparkling, willingly playing along.

She continued where she had left off, kissing around the bandage on his chest as she moved down his body. Héctor was completely at her mercy, and he knew it. He closed his eyes and groaned softly, his breathing ragged. He was trembling now, feeling her tongue dip into his navel. Her hands were on his hips, her fingers tracing over the bones of his pelvis, her lips traveling lower and lower, moving aside the blanket that had been covering him. _What is she doing? Surely she isn’t going to kiss me… there?_

His question was answered almost immediately by the sensation of Imelda’s lips closing around his most sensitive part. He cried out and arched back against his straw bed, an intense sensation of pleasure shooting through him. Every brain cell seemed to evaporate, every thought vanished, and he could think of nothing except for what she was doing to him right now. She moved her lips sensually up and down his length, her tongue playfully tracing patterns over his tender skin, lapping over the sensitive head. One hand stroked the inside of his thigh while the other joined her lips in teasing him. He panted and struggled against the rope around his wrists, desperate to touch her, but he was trapped, forced to suffer this unbearable pleasure without any way of reciprocating. She sucked gently on him and he cried out again, calling out her name. He knew she had ordered him to keep still and he wanted to obey, fearful that he might accidentally hurt her, but every part of his body had taken on a life of its own and there was nothing he could do to stop his hips from bucking uncontrollably in response to her. Her grip on him tightened and her movements became faster, bringing him closer and closer to the edge as she sucked harder, her skilled tongue driving him almost to breaking point.

“Imelda… please… oh, God, Imelda… please…” he begged her, although he wasn’t exactly sure what for. He needed to be inside her. He needed to hold her. He needed everything about her, right now.

Imelda stopped what she was doing. She had teased him enough. She kissed his navel again and sat up, marvelling at the effect she had managed to have on him. She had heard that men found this activity particularly thrilling, although she’d had no idea that he would enjoy it quite this much. She’d had no idea that _she_ would enjoy it this much either, and looking at him now only excited her further. His eyes were tightly closed, his breath coming in ragged whimpers, his hands straining against the rope binding them. Between gasps, he was still desperately whispering one repeated word- _please_. He was begging her. And she had no intention of denying him anything.

She carefully repositioned herself, moving her knees either side of his hips and straddling him, careful not to put any pressure on his injured chest. She realised that she was breathing almost as heavily as he was, and she felt unexpectedly warm and wet between her legs. Her whole body was tingling, and she desperately wanted him to touch her. She reached forwards and pulled the rope securing his hands, releasing them, then leaned down and kissed him deeply. He threw his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. They both pulled away from the kiss at the same time, breathless, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Imelda, you’re shaking.”

“So are you.”

“Are you sure you want to do this? If you are scared, we can stop. Any time, if it hurts or anything, you just say and we’ll stop. It’s ok.” Héctor stroked her hair, his face concerned. “I need you to be sure that this is what you want. Once we’ve crossed this bridge together, there’s no going back. This is the point of no return, _mi amor_.”

“Good. I don’t want to turn back. I love you, Héctor. I want to be your wife… tonight.”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. She sat up and pulled her slip off over her head, finally exposing her body completely to him. He stared at her in awe, her skin bathed in the warm glow of the oil lamps, almost too afraid to touch her. She took his hand and raised it to her breast, and he squeezed it gently. Her head lowered to kiss him, but he had other ideas, ducking to catch her nipple in his mouth. A wave of pleasure shot through her and she moaned, feeling her sensitive nipple hardening as he ran his tongue over it. His hand found her other breast and mirrored the movement of his tongue with his thumb, teasing her nipple until it hardened for him. Knowing that she was beginning to lose control of herself, Imelda fought to concentrate on what was going on between her legs. She could feel his hard, warm manhood rubbing gently against her inner thigh, mere inches from her most intimate parts which were now so wet she could feel the liquid running down the inside of her leg. She raised herself up to a sitting position until she was straddling Héctor’s hips with her thighs, and then took his hands, putting them on her hips to steady herself. He was panting again, his eyes locked on hers, and he let out a long gasp as she lowered herself gently onto him, feeling her insides stretching to take all of him in. She paused for a second, catching her breath, getting used to the feeling of having him inside her. It was a little uncomfortable for a moment while she acclimatised, but then he shifted his hips slightly underneath her, causing a little ripple of pleasure throughout her body which made her gasp.

“Are you ok? I’m not hurting you?” Héctor’s voice was breathy, a mixture of excitement and concern.

Imelda nodded, too breathless to speak. Héctor stared awestruck at her beautiful body above him, her hands holding on to his forearms for support. It felt like nothing he could’ve imagined, with the soft folds of her body enveloping him tenderly, warm and wet and perfect. Just as he was getting used to the feeling, she began to slowly gyrate her hips in small circular motions, sending shocks of pleasure through him. She moaned quietly, closing her eyes, and he found himself having to concentrate hard on staying calm. He had been told that the first time could sometimes be painful for girls, and he wanted her to have all of the control over the speed and depth of their union so that he could make sure he didn’t hurt her. He was going to have to work hard to keep his self-control, and he knew it wasn’t going to be easy as he felt her start to move her hips in larger motions, a look of ecstasy on her face as each thrilling sensation rippled through her. He could feel all of her internal muscles squeezing his length as her pleasure intensified, and she began to grind herself harder against him, pushing him even deeper inside her. He let out a moan, which seemed to excite her further, and she took his hands and lifted them to her breasts again.

Héctor didn’t need any further encouragement. He gently kneaded her breasts in his hands, rolling the hard nipples in his fingertips. Imelda moaned and quickened the pace of her hips slightly, and Héctor could feel the intensity building as the sensitive skin of his shaft rubbed up against her internal walls, the friction sending waves of pleasure through them both. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to resist the urge to thrust his hips, and instead he pushed up against her, angling his pelvis upwards in his desperation to push himself even deeper inside her. She was panting hard, struggling to keep control of herself. Her hips began to jerk more wildly as her excitement overcame her, and she had to lean forwards onto all-fours to prevent herself from losing her balance completely, grabbing handfuls of the hay beside his head to steady herself.

“Hec… Héctor… that feels so good… so good… please, give it to me harder… yes… harder… oh, mi amor- ahhhhh!”

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Losing all of the control he had been fighting so hard to keep, Héctor grabbed her waist with both hands. Her hips were gyrating wildly, grinding hard against him. He thrust his pelvis up to meet her, driving himself harder and deeper into her with every motion, his pleasure building with each thrill of sensation. She had lost the use of words and was instead making sounds more like an animal, her internal walls contracting hard around him as he pounded into her. She let out a long, guttural cry and he felt her whole body contract, her sensitive parts going into spasm around him as her she reached her thrilling peak. This sent him over the edge too, and he followed close behind her, crying out her name and bucking his hips uncontrollably as his ecstasy reached a climax. With one final hard thrust, he felt himself release deep inside her, his silky fluid mingling with hers and filling her with warmth. Agonising waves of pleasure washed blissfully over him and the whole world disappeared except for her, the spasms of her internal muscles still clinging tightly to him as her own climax continued to wrack her body. Finally, she collapsed beside him on the hay, and they lay entwined together, breathless and exhausted.

For a few minutes, neither of them could speak. Imelda dragged herself closer to Héctor, nuzzling her head into his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her, their exhausted bodies pressed together. He kissed her soft hair, and she responded by kissing his chest, feeling his heart pounding against her lips. He was well and truly hers now.

“I love you, ‘Melda,” he whispered.

“I love you too.” She stroked her fingers down his chest and he gave a little shiver. Was he cold? She rolled over and found the blanket, pulling it over them both.

Héctor was wearing the biggest smile Imelda had ever seen, looking down at her lovingly through misty eyes which seemed to be shining even more than usual.

“Héctor, tell me you’re not crying.”

“No! I’m just… a little emotional. We’ve come a long way in one day. And you’re so beautiful, mi amor.” If he was honest, he wasn’t quite sure why he felt so tearful. He was just so happy, it seemed to be spilling out of his eyes.

Imelda couldn’t help but laugh. She propped herself up on her elbow and stroked his cheek, enjoying how he nuzzled his face into her hand and kissed her wrist.

“Is it safe to say that you are glad I stayed in the barn with you tonight?”

“Si, I definitely owe Rafael a drink for agreeing to leave you here.” He grinned mischievously at her. “There was me thinking that you were just concerned about my health. I had no idea that this was what was really on your mind.”

“I stayed because I wanted to take care of you!” she protested. “A few hours ago you were nearly dead, remember?”

“Oh, you certainly took care of me.” Héctor winked at her and flashed her his most charming smile. “Judging by that beautiful song you were singing for me a minute ago, I think I took pretty good care of you too. Not bad for a nearly dead guy, eh?”

Imelda laughed and playfully moved as though to give his face a gentle slap. He caught her hand and kissed it. “And you were worried that you would disappoint me!”

“Mmm, I do like to be proven wrong. Remind me that I owe an apology to Ramon. I was playing in the plaza the other day and I said that there was no better feeling in the world than the one you get when you’re lost in the music. He laughed at me and told me I was a sweet summer child. I got cross with him but now I think I know what he meant, and he was absolutely right.”

Imelda laughed. “ _Si_. That was the best music we’ve ever made together. I think I might have to find excuses to be alone with you more often.”

“We won’t need excuses once we’re married.” Héctor still couldn’t believe that she wanted to marry him. He would think that the whole afternoon had been some sort of wonderful dream, if it weren’t for the burning pain in his chest reminding him that he was very much awake. He decided not to worry her by mentioning it. “Are you still sure you want to marry me, Imelda? To spend the rest of your life with me? Forever?”

“Hmm, forever is a very long time. But _si_ , I suppose I had better marry you now,” she teased. “After that, you might’ve put a baby in me. I think maybe we had better get married quite quickly just in case.”

“Si… I’m sorry about that. I may have got a little carried away.” Héctor shifted guiltily, but fireworks were going off in his mind. A baby… he had pictured it so many times in his head. He and Imelda, happily married, their children dancing and laughing in the plaza while he played his guitar and Imelda sang. He had never dared to dream that it might actually happen. Now he was lying beside Imelda, they were going to get married, and she might already have his baby inside her. His baby. He would make sure that this little one had the childhood he’d always missed out on. Would it be a boy or a girl? What would they name it? Would it have his smile? Imelda’s nose? Héctor pictured himself singing lullabies to a little baby with eyes just like Imelda’s, and he couldn’t stop a huge grin spreading across his face. He would’ve leapt up on top of the hay bales and done the loudest _grito_ he had ever done, if only his body would let him. He knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to try- pain was creeping back through him as the adrenaline of their lovemaking wore off. Breathing hurt. Perhaps he had overdone it a bit considering his current state, but _dios,_ it had been worth it.

Imelda noticed his expression. She was relieved to see that even though he was apologising, the thought of her being pregnant clearly delighted him. She ought not to have been surprised. Héctor had never had a family; not a single person in his life to love him and take care of him. She could picture him as a tiny child, frightened and alone. Nobody ever kissed him goodnight or read him a bedtime story, nobody ever sung him a lullaby. Nobody ever kissed his tears away when he cried, or held his hand when he was frightened. He didn’t talk about it much, but it showed in the way that he expressed his own affection. He never wanted anyone else to feel that way that he felt back then. He would be the best papa in the whole world.

Imelda put her hand on Héctor’s chest. Her own breathing had returned to normal, she noticed, but his was still ragged and the smile was fading from his face. The heat that had been brought to his cheeks by excitement had faded away, and he had turned quite pale. Had she over-exerted him? She had only intended to pleasure him, to make him feel how much she loved him. He was supposed to relax and lie back while he enjoyed her attentions, but she had underestimated how exciting she would find the whole experience. She had loved the feeling of having complete power over him, her total control over his body and the sound of his voice begging her for release. She could’ve given him that release without him having to move or exert his already-battered body, but she had gotten carried away. In her excitement at controlling him she had lost control of herself. Any intentions she of keeping things gentle and relaxing for him had well and truly gone out of the window, and now… it seemed that he was suffering for it.

“Héctor? Are you all right, mi amor?”

He mumbled something incoherent. There were beads of sweat on his forehead, although he seemed to be shivering. His eyes were closed. Imelda put her hand to his forehead. It was hot, too hot. She felt panic rising in her chest.

“Héctor!”

He opened his eyes and smiled at her weakly. “ _Si_?”

“Héctor, something isn’t right. You’re hurting, aren’t you?” She stroked his cheek worriedly.

“ _Calme_ , _mi amor_. I’m just tired. I’ll be absolutely fine after a good sleep.” His voice was soothing, but when he reached up a weak hand to touch her face she noticed it was shaking.

“Oh, Héctor. I’m so sorry. I knew you were hurt, I shouldn’t have-”

“Imelda.” He looked up at her seriously. “Our marriage will be long and adventurous, and I am sure that we will give each other lots of cause to apologise through the years. But this is not one of those occasions. Never apologise for this moment and what we just shared. I wouldn’t have changed it for the world.”

“It was too soon after what happened to you this morning. I should’ve waited until you felt better. I was supposed to be here tonight to make sure you didn’t _die_ , not to over-exert you and make you feel even worse…”

“ _Mi amor_ , if I die tonight then I die a happy man.” He winked at her. “All of the other men in the Land of the Dead will be so jealous when I tell them how I died, I will be famous! Ay, I know, I shouldn’t joke about such things. But really, Imelda, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep, and so do you.”

Imelda nodded. She stood up and went over to put out the oil lamps, noticing a little blood on her thighs as she got nearer to the light. It was normal for a girl to bleed a little the first time she was intimate with a man, she knew, but she decided not to let Héctor see in case it worried him. She pulled her slip back on over her head and then felt her way back over to where Héctor lay, slipping in beside him under the warm blankets.

“Do I get a kiss goodnight?” he whispered.

“Oh, Héctor. You are such a child.” She laughed and felt her way to his lips, kissing him deeply. “Goodnight, _mi amor_. Sweet dreams. Just wake me if you need anything.”

“I will. I love you, Imelda.”

“I love you too, Héctor.” She took his hand and squeezed it, slipping her fingers in between his. Whatever happened now, he was hers and she was his. Nothing could ever come between them. He would get better with her help, and then they would get married and spend the rest of their lives together.

Just as her mind was drifting into sleep, she heard him whisper in the dark.

“I think if it is a girl, I’d like to call her Coco.”

“What?”

“Back in the orphanage, there was an old nun called Sister Socorro, or Sister Coco as she was known. She was kind, she was the one who taught me my first few chords on the guitar. If we have a daughter, I’d like to name her Coco after her. What do you think?”

“I think you should go to sleep, Héctor.”

“Whatever you say, _mi amor_.”

Imelda smiled, amused that he was still thinking about their future children. They were going to have a great life together, and she couldn’t wait to get started.


End file.
